


The Age-Old Question

by Selenic



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series, Star Trek: The Original Series (Movies)
Genre: Campfires, Friendship, Gen, Star Trek V: The Final Frontier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-28
Updated: 2015-02-28
Packaged: 2018-03-15 16:26:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3454004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selenic/pseuds/Selenic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bones and Spock have a philosophical discussion by the campfire</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Age-Old Question

**Author's Note:**

> In memory of Leonard Nimoy. My life wouldn't be the same without Star Trek, and especially Spock. A huge thank you to [millygal](http://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal) for a quick read through, all remaining mistakes are totally mine. LLAP.
> 
> The story takes place just before [the campfire scene in The Final Frontier](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IviO44AaiOU).
> 
> Crossposted [on LJ](http://selenic76.livejournal.com/61903.html)
> 
> Edit: Now the story has a beautiful banner too, thanks to the talented and lovely [millygal](http://archiveofourown.org/users/millygal/pseuds/millygal), ♥! ^_^

 

 

The Age-Old Question

 

"Spock, do you believe in the afterlife?" Bones suddenly found himself asking over the campfire and the slowly cooking meal, not really sure what had brought it on. Perhaps it had been Jim's near fatal attempt to defy gravity earlier during the day, or simply the fact that being a doctor meant the thought was never really far from his mind. The ever foolhardy captain was absent for the moment, gathering more wood for the hungry flames, while Bones prepared the food and Spock tinkered with some small machine, the purpose of which there was no guessing of.

"If you mean to ask do I believe in the notion of an undying soul such as it is depicted in many of Earth's religions, then the answer is no," Spock replied in his usual manner, very politely, but quite dispassionately, his eyes never leaving the item in his hands. But then he stopped working and a tiny frown appeared on his brow, the kind that Bones had come to associate with things concerning Spock's human side. Right now, the question Bones had posed was being re-evaluated, not from the point of view of pure logic, but from a—more or less—human perspective. Bones couldn't help but smile, and it was with nothing but affection for his friend.

"However," Spock continued after a moment's silence, raising his pondering gaze towards the dark, starry skies above Yosemite National Park. "Science, no matter how advanced, has yet been unable to unequivocally prove or disprove the matter. Even my own experience of death could be construed to consist of nothing more than corrupted sensory data provided by a biological system on the verge of a breakdown." 

Much to his displeasure, Bones still had no idea what kind of experience Spock was talking about, since the Vulcan persistently refused to see a point in discussing the matter due to the lack of 'a common frame of reference', like it wasn't enough that Bones had carried his _katra_ in his head. That never stopped Bones from trying again though. Not just because he was curious, both professionally and personally, but because a part of him hoped Spock would be able to answer the age-old question of what lay beyond the veil of death. Bones was only human, after all.

Spock quietly set down his project, and then reached down to scoop up a handful of dirt. He held it up, then slowly tilted his hand and let the small pebbles and sand trickle back to the ground, all the while wearing a deeply thoughtful expression.

"We have technology that can map our bodies down to the very last particle, and send it across distances unharmed," he told Bones.

"No need to remind me of that, still don't trust the damn things to put me back right," Bones grumbled, but Spock paid no heed while the steady stream of sand held his attention.

"We can comprehend and explain our biological functions through science, and have come to understand the workings of the mind to a fair extent as well. But beyond that, were are without definitive answers." The last grain fell, leaving but a thin layer of dust on his palm. "If anything transcends our mortal beings, be it to another plane of existence or another universe entirely, we shall only truly discover the truth when our time comes to make that transition."

"There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy," Bones said, letting the quote sink in as he stirred the bean stew. It smelled good already, but it would be better once he added the secret ingredient. He wondered if he should poke Spock a bit more about the subject to get anything more out of him, but there was no need.

"Indeed, doctor," Spock said, wiping the dust off his hands and then crossing them over his knees. "What Shakespeare wrote is as true today as it was in his time. If there is one thing that I have learned from all our encounters with the alien and the unknown, it is that the universe still holds mysteries for us to unravel. For all the knowledge we possess, we have merely 'scratched the surface', as you say. Perhaps one day, your question will be resolved. Until then, each of us must rely on belief."

"Well then let me rephrase the question, Spock," Bones said, pulling a small metal flask from his pocket. He still wasn't quite satisfied with Spock's answer. "Do you believe that there is any chance that, by means so far unknown to science, our existence could continue in some form or another after our current physical bodies cease to function?" He opened the flask and poured some of the amber liquid into the pot before putting the whiskey away again. Bones glanced at Spock, just in time to see a hint of concern shadow the pensive face. Even after all this time, the Vulcan was still not too comfortable with uncertainties—like belief, or making guesses.

"Yes," Spock finally replied. "I do believe there is a chance, though I would not hazard to estimate as to what the actual odds of such an occurrence would be." To Bones the odds didn't matter, Spock's admission of the possibility was more than enough.

"Well that's all I wanted to know," Bones told him, and smiled. Spock raised an eyebrow at him in return.

"May I ask, what was the purpose of this inquiry, other than to engage in conversation while we wait for the captain to return?" Bones stirred the beans a bit more, tasted them and nodded approvingly. Supper was ready.

"Oh, nothing in particular," Bones said as he put away the wooden spoon and picked up the metal triangle bell, ready to ring it soon since he could already hear Jim approaching the campsite. "Just wondering if I'll be stuck with you guys for all eternity when my number's up, or if I can finally have some peace and quiet after all these years." His attempt to sound grumpy only half succeeded. Bones wasn't sure if he was just seeing things, but he could have sworn the corner of Spock's mouth twitched ever so slightly with amusement.

"Then I shall endeavour to stay alive for as long a possible to ensure you at least a moment's reprieve from my company," he pronounced, faring no better than Bones in his effort to appear unmoved by the sentiment. "But if you permit me to say, should the chances be in our favour," there was a pause, and Spock's featured softened a fraction, only enough to be detected by someone who knew the signs would be there, "I could not wish for better company than you and the captain."

"Me neither, Spock," Bones replied, not a damn bit ashamed that his voice went all soft on him, "me neither." Spock nodded, and then proceeded to once more work on his little machine, while Bones went back to tending the pot, feeling oddly relieved. If Spock could find it within himself to believe in any kind of afterlife, than surely, somewhere, somehow, there must be one. A foolish thought perhaps, but hopeful nonetheless.

"What's with all the silent brooding?" Jim asked as he entered the circle of light, arms full of sticks and branches. He set them down by the end of the log bench and sat beside Bones. "Don't tell me you two have been sitting here mute like this all the time I was away?"

"We are not 'brooding', captain," Spock announced, subtly but audibly affronted, "merely contemplating after the fascinating philosophical discussion the doctor and I had in your absence."

"Yes, we actually ended up agreeing on something," Bones cheerfully chimed in, and the briefly puzzled look on Jim's face was worth seeing. Then the captain smiled widely.

"Well that must have been some discussion then," he simply said, glancing first at Spock, then Bones, clearly wondering what they had talked about but he refrained from asking. Jim knew them well enough not to. Or perhaps he'd read all he'd needed to on the faces of his friends. "Anybody else hungry?" he asked instead, rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

Bones just grinned and gripped the bell tighter. He would make enough noise to ring across the universe.

 

~~~ End ~~~

 


End file.
